


Again

by DisasterLesbean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, this is just sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterLesbean/pseuds/DisasterLesbean
Summary: Her back slammed against the wall and Hermione grit her teeth against the surge of irritation. Bellatrix’s wand dug sharply into her stomach and her knife against her throat. “Dead again.”





	Again

Hermione’s back slammed against the wall for the fifth time in the last half hour. “If we’re going to war you need to know how to defend yourself!” Bellatrix seethed at her. Hermione slid down the wall laying her head against it trying to get her breath back. 

Hermione had tried to be understanding but it was getting out of hand. She could understand Bellatrix’s overprotectiveness the first few times but this was the eighth training session and she had more important things to do. With the Order’s last dredges gathering for one last push she had no patience for unneeded distractions. “Bella, in case you’ve forgotten I fought in a war already.” She reminded her sharply.

Bellatrix scowled at her collapsed form absentmindedly twirling her wand. “A war you lost.” She reminded her smugly.

“Doesn’t count if I wasn’t on their side.” Hermione protested, starting the process of getting her sore muscles to communicate and stand back up. 

“Excuses.” 

“Stop trying to bait me into another fight.” 

“Who needs bait?” Bellatrix asked the at the same moment she tossed a hex her way. Hermione threw up her protego on instinct and was tossed back into the hell that was dueling Bellatrix. She was an unrelenting force beating against Hermione’s defenses with a focus most thought Bellatrix didn’t have. She used curses that could very easily kill Hermione if she didn’t block or dodge them. Bellatrix has had Hermione on the defensive since the first duel which sapped most of her energy. 

Hermione could easily win a duel against anyone outside of Bellatrix and Voldemort but this didn’t matter to the older woman. Bellatrix expected her to somehow catch up to her years of experience. The longer Bellatrix spent out of Azkaban, with the healing and frequent practicing, she grew even stronger. She was a force to be reckoned with during the Second Wizarding War but she was nearly unstoppable now.

Bellatrix was closing in on Hermione, the real point of these duels. Witches and wizards tended to be ranged in their fighting style. They didn’t need to be close to cast many spells or curses and as a result had little experience with anything but ranged battle. Hermione had once voiced the stupidity of this as a combatant wouldn’t be able to handle close combat. For whatever reason this actually stuck in Bellatrix’s mind and she obsessed over it for months. She perfected the art of flowing from ranged to close combat. Learning how to smoothly transition from long sweeping wand movements to tighter flicks of her wand, sometimes she’d even switch to wandless magic. She’d also incorporated her knife into her dueling as of late.

Hermione tries to hold her back, keep her away, by throwing any means of curses at the other woman. Nothing worked. Before she knew it Bellatrix was slamming her into for the sixth time.

Her back slammed against the wall and Hermione grit her teeth against the surge of irritation. Bellatrix’s wand dug sharply into her stomach and her knife against her throat. “Dead again.” 

She wanted to be working. She wanted to actually be doing something against the Order. Her irritation built as she swallowed against the pressure of the blade. Bellatrix would want go for a few more rounds and she was done. There was one sure fire way to get Bellatrix to switch gears so she could go finish another war. “Maybe I just like ending up here.” She teased leaning forward to press her lips against Bellatrix’s jaw. 

Bellatrix’s breathing hitched and she licked her lips. She withdrew her wand tucking it away before pressing her hand into the wall besides Hermione’s head. “I thought you were getting tired.” Her voice pointed. 

Bellatrix’s lips captured hers in a heated kiss. Lips sliding together softer than she’d expect with the knife still pressed against her throat. Their bodies met when Bellatrix slid closer, her every inch covering her. She removed the knife after what felt like a lifetime of waiting and brushed her thumb gently over the thin line that wept red. 

The knife disappeared into its hiding spot and Bellatrix pushed forward. Hand moving from the wall to grip into Hermione’s hair, tilting her head back. Bellatrix scraped her teeth down the column of her throat before sucking on her pulse point. “Pet?” She knew she was expected to respond but Bellatrix’s other hand was working its way underneath her pants. Fingernails dragging up her thighs before gliding down soothing the lines.

“Y-yes?”

Bellatrix moved back up capturing her lips once again. Tongue pressing into her mouth, warring for dominance. “Did you really think you could distract me?” She whispered against Hermione’s lips. She tried to pull away, intending to leave Hermione laying against the wall, only to be stopped by Hermione. She dug a hand into the other woman’s hip dragging her back in. The rough texture of the corset rubbed against her palm as she kept Bellatrix close. She slotted their legs together and pulled Bellatrix’s lip against her own again. 

“I was hoping you could distract me, actually.” 

“Does the Minister of Magic need my lowly help?” 

“I need you.” 

Bellatrix’s eyes darkened as she grabbed Hermione’s leg and wrapped it around her waist. Her thigh pushed further into Hermione’s center causing Hermione to let out a moan. Bellatrix’s lips blazed a path down her throat once more. Nipping and sucking her way downwards. She was blocked by the neckline of Hermione’s shirt which she bypassed by stretching it away from Hermione’s body. Her lips passed over her nipple, a far cry from the pressure she needed. Her hand tightened around Hermione’s leg, a silent order for her to keep it there. 

Her hand continued its journey up her leg until it rested at the apex of her legs, hindered by the fabric that lay between her and her goal. Bellatrix’s free hand found her other breast. She grasped it firmly, thumb circling around the bud. She continued the teasing motions over her breasts. Touching but not pressing, present but not enough. Just as Hermione felt a groan of annoyance build in her throat the other woman finally took her into her mouth. 

Hermione couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. Bellatrix’s self-satisfaction could be felt from the confident press of her fingers and wicked curve of her lips. Hermione wanted to spit back a retort, that she’s so tense and ready at the oncoming war that she shouldn’t be proud of herself. She wanted to say anything to wipe away that arrogant smirk and hearty chuckle that sent vibrations down Hermione’s spine. She couldn’t. 

She couldn’t because yes, she was tense and wound up, but Bellatrix has always done this to her. No one could build Hermione up and take her apart as quick as Bellatrix. She could do with a crook of her fingers what others couldn’t do with hours. “Please.” It fell from her lips without her agreement, without a conscious decision but she didn’t regret it. She didn’t recall it. She’d say it again, however many times she needed to, to get Bellatrix to stop teasing her. To feel the dark witch against her, inside her. 

Bellatrix raised her head, locking eyes with her. Her eyes had that intense focused look she got whenever she dueled or had Hermione moaning for her. “What was that?” Her voice broke over the syllables, crackling with desire. 

“Please.” If anything Hermione’s voice was worse off. Shattered by arousal and desperation. She was quick to unfasten Hermione’s pants, removing a vital layer between the two of them. Hermione dropped her leg to rid herself of her pants only to have the other witch snatch it back up the moment her legs were free. Her hips inadvertently rocked forward when Bellatrix applied a bit more pressure. Bellatrix’s hand retracted at her movement only returning once she settled down.

“Eager?” Bellatrix’s grin was wide, tongue between her teeth. She was as haughty as ever with Hermione all but keening beneath her. It made that warmth building inside Hermione escalate into a wildfire. Roaring heat spreading across her body demanding to be fueled.

“If you don’t touch me I swear I will-” Bellatrix cut off her threats by finally sliding past her underwear and into her warmth. 

“You’ll what?” Bellatrix taunted through her sniggers. Hermione’s whimper at the touch drew that intense serious expression once more. She leaned her forehead against Hermione’s, breathing the same air. Bellatrix circled her clit with more attention then she’d allowed Hermione yet and she found her knees caving beneath the ministrations. Her leg dropped away from Bellatrix’s hip. She was quick to move her hand from under Hermione’s shirt to grab her other leg wrapping it around her hips. Her finger dug into the meat of thigh keeping her in place. “You’re so wet.” Bellatrix’s voice could be mistaken for that same teasing voice were it not for the reverence which she held her gaze.

Hermione felt the perspiration on Bellatrix’s forehead, she could smell the leather and oak that clung to her skin, the tang of her dark magic still clouding her from their duels. She was completely surrounded by Bellatrix. She shut her eyes to block out the sight of the dark intensity scattered across the other witches face. “Keep your eyes open.” Was the growled order. She could feel the vibration with how close their chests were. She tossed her arms around Bellatrix’s shoulders to steady herself. 

Bellatrix’s strokes dropped towards her entrance. She easily pushed inside her with two fingers, starting a slow rhythm. As she had been doing the entire time, it seemed to be a slow torture to drag as many indecent sounds from Hermione as possible. Every time she was with Bellatrix it seemed irritation and pleasure ran hand in hand. 

Hermione let out a whimper of Bellatrix’s name as she grazed her clit with her thumb. Her thrusts sped up at the utterance. She pressed her lips against her temple, then again near her ear before gently biting Hermione’s bottom lip. She dropped to her knees, draping Hermione’s leg over her shoulder and using the now free hand to press her further into the wall. Her eyes stayed locked onto Hermione’s the entire time. At the first stroke of her tongue in time with her thrusts, Hermione felt her eyes roll into the back of her head. Bellatrix momentarily tightened her grip into a pinch until she had Hermione’s attention once again. 

Her hips rocked uselessly against the other witches face, eager for something more. She was on the precipice and Bellatrix knew it as well as her. She could keep her there as long as she desired, going just slow enough, just light enough to truly drive Hermione mad. Hermione dug her fingers into Bellatrix’s hair, carefully holding on.

On an unspoken cue, something Hermione couldn’t hear or see, Bellatrix decided she was done with teasing her. Her pace quickened and she added another finger. Fingers curling, pushing and pulling, the unrelenting sucking and attentions of her tongue left Hermione careening. 

She felt herself finally snap into a release. The fire that had flooded her burned brighter before slowly seeping out of her. “Bellatrix!” The other woman kept up her movements, leading her through her orgasm. Hermione slumped against the wall spent and tried to regain her senses. Bellatrix pulled out of her earning another whimper and Hermione released her hair. Before she could recover or return the favor, Bellatrix unceremoniously flitted away leaving Hermione to crumple to the floor.

She stood some feet away with the most devious expression Hermione had seen on the woman since the time she’d tortured an Order member to death. Admittedly he had cursed Hermione beforehand.

“Again.” It took a moment for the meaning to hit Hermione. She stood across from Hermione with her wand drawn once more. Her fingers wrapped loosely around it, glistening obscenely.

Hermione was slumped against the wall, head leaning back and exhausted. She was still breathing fast and hard, her shirt was stretched beyond repair and askew, pants missing, underwear absolutely ruined and Bellatrix stood there expecting her to fight another round. 

 

She had just wanted to work.


End file.
